Suicide

Hot knife pressed into flesh, sharp knife slicing. Thought maybe you needed a physical translation to see my pain. But you have no empathy, just sit detached from the tears in my eyes, the wounds on my body, the knife in my heart. Not human, are you? You wouldn't make even the tiniest sacrifice to keep me alive. One white disc after another; one, two, three... forty-six codeine circles to stop everything. I thought that would be enough. Devastated to awake, vomiting my rage. Then hospital, waiting, needles in my veins. I should've died. And now I wake up every day wishing I was in a coffin because you can't love me. Because you want her more than me. Because you took my heart and all I got back was lies and pain and a death-wish.